


Leader {HIATUS}

by SandyRoses



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 12 Things + 1 Thing, Abandonment Issues, Basically Seungcheol being a Dad and comforting his children, Can be read as romantic or nah, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emetophobia, Exhaustion, Fluff and Angst, Guitar, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Idols, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Sick Character, Stress, Vomiting, he loves them all, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22271797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandyRoses/pseuds/SandyRoses
Summary: Everyone hurts sometimes. Seungcheol does his best to make sure the people he loves hurt as little as possible.Or, 12 times Cheol was a dad to his kids + 1 time they decided to be nice to him instead
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups & Everyone, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Everyone, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Jeon Wonwoo, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Kim Mingyu, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Seokmin | DK, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 98
Kudos: 380





	1. Jeonghan

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of our lovely leader, I'm dedicating this fic to him!! It'll update on the 15th of every month, with one member every new chapter. I wanted to write some soft Cheol/everyone, since I think we're all missing our amazing leader. Fighting, S.Coups!
> 
> ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOO ILY
> 
> Side note: this was heavily inspired by the wonderful cestlavern's fic, one touch, one kiss, and then a lot more!! It's a smexy Seungcheol-centric fic and I just wanted to do a soft ver with some non-sexual intimacy bc lets be honest Cheol is just a dad who loves his kids sm

Seungcheol has always been close to Jeonghan. He knows the other man’s quirks and pet peeves and all his little ticks like the back of his hand. He’s sure Jeonghan knows him the same way. They know each other closely, and for that, Seungcheol will always be incredibly grateful. He might not be _quite_ as high as Joshua on Jeonghan’s list, but he knew with certainty that he was a close second. That’s all he needs.

And especially as a leader, Seungcheol likes being close to all his members. As the oldest, he helps shoulder their problems when they need his help, which he will always offer. Of course, he needs a break every now and again from his own crushing responsibility, but he will always put his friends first, because at that moment, they need him more than he needs to sleep or practice or whatever he’s in the middle of doing.

It starts with him finding Jeonghan staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. That’s nothing new; Jeonghan knows he’s beautiful and has every right to admire himself (even if his boasting can get kind of annoying, they all know he isn’t as self-centered as he makes himself out to be), so Seungcheol isn’t concerned by that. But what does concern him is the look on Jeonghan’s face. It’s too calm, almost dismissive. He knows Jeonghan often wears the aloof, detached expression, watching from afar with the lightest of smirks on his face while the others make fools of themselves.

But seeing it with no context is strange. There’s no reason Jeonghan should be looking at _himself_ like that. Like he’s something worth sneering at. Seungcheol hates seeing Jeonghan look at himself like that, especially when he thinks Jeonghan deserves to be looked at only with admiring smiles and respectful nods.

So he intervenes.

“Hannie?” he hums gently, not wanting to startle the younger. It has little effect, because Jeonghan jumps anyway, whirling around to face Seungcheol. The almost condescending look on his face is replaced with something flustered, and the leader feels a little relieved because at least it’s better than before.

“Ch-Cheol!” Jeonghan sounds surprised to Seungcheol, and the older tilts his head. Was he really that absorbed, not to notice him walking up?

“You alright, angel?” He uses the pet name, partly to compliment Jeonghan and partly just because he wants to. The younger has never minded and often preens when the others use it, fluttering his lashes and acting all coy. 

“I’m- I’m fine,” Jeonghan says quickly, turning back to glance at himself in the mirror. He looks almost disappointed, and Seungcheol’s worries only increase. Instead of speaking, he simply grabs Jeonghan’s wrist gently, pulling him into Wonwoo’s empty bedroom and sitting him on the sheets.

“Talk to me angel, tell me what’s wrong,” he urges, taking both of Jeonghan’s hands in his own. “I’ll listen,” he coaxes, and he knows Jeonghan knows that. He can feel Jeonghan’s fingers squeeze his, but he doesn’t mind. What he does mind in the way the younger bites his lip, a habit he thought the singer had long gotten rid of. What bothers him even more is the way Jeonghan avoids looking at him. It’s so uncharacteristic for the normally straight-forward and bold Jeonghan he knows that a soft noise slips out of his throat, worried and comforting.

Jeonghan looks anywhere but at him. Up at the ceiling, down at the sheets, at the wall behind Seungcheol. The leader doesn’t push, because he knows Jeonghan hates his life being pried into forcefully, so he simply sits in silence, rubbing his thumbs over Jeonghan’s knuckles and offering a quiet, steady presence.

“I just- I’m sorry,” Jeonghan finally says, after a long sigh.

“For what, angel? You have nothing to be sorry for,” Seungcheol murmurs, tightening his hold on Jeonghan’s long-fingered hands. “Whatever it is, I won’t judge. I can just shut up and listen if you want me to. You can trust me Hannie.”

“I know, and I do, it’s not your fault, it’s just…” The words don’t come and Jeonghan looks frustrated, almost glaring down at his hands as if they might be the source of his problems.

“I’m so stupid, and this is so petty, it’s not even worth discussing,” Jeonghan finally mumbles, and he looks so defeated and weary that Seungcheol wonders how long Jeonghan has been thinking about whatever’s bothering him. It freezes him for a second, because Jeonghan almost never talks like that.

Still, he huffs in determination, because if one of his members has a problem, no matter how insignificant it may seem, he wants to help, because he knows that the smallest things have a way of niggling into your brain and making you crumble from the inside out. 

“Nothing is too dumb for me to listen to. We live with Soonyoung,” he reminded, and his heart lifts to see Jeonghan smile weakly. “In all seriousness, Hannie, really, talk with me. If you really don’t want to say, then it’s your business and I’ll stay out of it. But as your leader and your friend, I want to help you.”

Jeonghan’s eyes flick up to his, searching and guarded. Seungcheol tries his best to hold his gaze, hoping to emanate a sense of comfort and encouragement.

The younger looks back at their hands again, another sigh escaping him.

“I...Sometimes I wish I didn’t look like I do,” he confessed quietly, and immediately wrenched his hands away from Seungcheol’s to put his face in them. “See, I’m so petty and this is so dumb, I don’t even know why I’m making such a big deal out of this-”

“Hannie, stop,” Seungcheol says softly, because he knows that if Jeonghan starts to rant he won’t stop. He gently takes Jeonghan’s hands away from his face and his heart aches to see the tears in the angel’s eyes. “It’s not dumb and it’s not petty. Keep going, if you feel comfortable.” He shuffles a little closer to Jeonghan, putting one hand on his knee and interlacing their fingers with the other. Jeonghan sniffles once or twice, looks indecisive, then, mumbling to the sheets, speaks again.

“I mean...how do I even say this...it’s just...like, look at Mingyu. Look at Hansol. Look at yourself. You all look so handsome and you take people’s breath away when you smile and...I just keep thinking of when I had my long hair, and literally everyone on the internet said I looked like a girl and for a while it was funny but then it just got kind of out of control and I feel really awful for comparing myself to you but...sometimes I hate looking so feminine. It’s not bad all the time, but I’m a _dude_ , Cheol, I wish it was more obvious. Like yeah, it’s gotten better since I cut my hair but people still say it and I don’t hear it often but it still makes me anxious when it really shouldn’t, so I end up just...stuck in a place where I can’t decide whether I want to change or not.” He let his head hang as he stopped, voice dropping to a whisper, so quiet Seungcheol has to lean in a little to hear. But when he does a new flame of protectiveness and resolve grows in his heart. Especially when he hears Jeonghan’s soft sniffle.

“Jeonghan,” he hums calmingly, pulling the younger into a hug. Then Jeonghan is putty in his lap, not outright sobbing like Seungcheol low-key expected him to be, but crying hard enough to shake both of them. The leader just pets his back soothingly, other arm wrapped around his torso in a grounding way. He says nothing, because he knows Jeonghan won’t hear him, and he stays silent, rocking the singer back and forth a little like how his mom did when he was much, much younger and needed someone to comfort him. 

It seems to work, because around 10 minutes later, Jeonghan is sufficiently calmed down, at that point just clinging to the front of Seungcheol’s shirt and sniffling occasionally. The older hugs him tightly before he leans back, tilting Jeonghan’s chin up with a finger and looking into his watery brown eyes.

“You’re very pretty, Hannie, you know that,” he begins, and he shushes Jeonghan’s renewed sniffles, “and a lot of people admire you for how beautiful you are. I’m speaking from my heart when I say that sometimes I get a little jealous because you always manage to always look so effortlessly amazing. But never, _never_ , have I ever thought of you in a way that was degrading or made you less of a man. Trust me. You’re slender and graceful and like a flower, but you’ve got your thorns too. You can be tough, just as much as the rest of us. More so, honestly. You’re one of the only people who can wrangle Jihoon into complacency,” he chuckles, and Jeonghan’s weak giggle makes him smile. 

“I’m sorry, Hannie, that you had to endure all that. No one has the right to make you feel small and confused, and if it gets out of hand again, tell me, ok? I’m here for you, angel, we all are. I love and care about you, so if this sort of thing happens again, and if it does I’m punching someone, then come to me. I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better.”

Jeonghan tilts his head up and looks at him, really looks at him, like he’s never properly inspected the leader before. His eyes are still glassy and watery, but they’re filled with a suspicious gleam, searching for a lie in Seungcheol’s eyes. Apparently, he finds none, because with another strained chuckle he’s leaning against the older’s chest, finding comfort in his solid warmth.

“...Thanks, Cheolie,” he finally says after a minute, quietly like he half doesn’t want Seungcheol to hear him. Seungcheol does anyway, and with a smile on his face he resumes petting the singer’s back. 

“It’s what I’m here for,” he assures, hugging Jeonghan lightly. “And don’t listen to anyone online, you’re very manly. You can snowboard better than all of us combined.” He lets the hug become an aggressive snuggle and it makes Jeonghan laugh, properly this time, so he continues until the younger is shoving him away, grinning widely and looking much better.

“You’re incredible,” Jeonghan says with a roll of his eyes. It’s between an insult and a compliment and Seungcheol takes it as the latter just because he can. 

“Thanks. I try,” he coos, snorting as Jeonghan whacks his arm.

“You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do. I too, often think that I am rather incredible.”

“I take that back, you’re insufferable instead,” Jeonghan laughs, and Seungcheol is so very relieved to see that he no longer looks so conflicted. 

“Hey, really, Hannie, if you need my help I’m here for you,” he repeats, voice quiet and sincere. He snags one of Jeonghan’s hands again and the younger looks at him with that same, searching, calculating gaze.

“I know,” he eventually says, though his voice is soft and grateful. “I know. Thank you. If you need me, I’m here for you too.” He squeezes Seungcheol’s hand and the leader smiles at him. Jeonghan smiles back, and they sit there in silence for a moment before the singer lets out a huff of laughter.

“I can’t believe I got so worked up about something so dumb.”

“Don’t say that, it was a reasonable concern,” Seungcheol tries to argue, and Jeonghan laughs again.

“You’re sweet, Cheol,” he hums fondly, pinching the older’s cheek. Seungcheol huffs at the motion but doesn’t swat his hand away. He’s glad he doesn’t, because quickly the singer’s hand drops to cup his face.

“Thank you, Seungcheol, really,” he murmurs, and with the use of his full name the leader knows he’s serious. He hums in acknowledgement, lacing his fingers back with Jeonghan’s free hand. The two stay silent for a while, comforted by each other’s simple, silent reassurances, until Jeonghan stands up, hugs Seungcheol tightly, and thanks him again, looking a whole lot better than he had been half an hour ago.

Seungcheol follows him, grinning proudly. He knows that even for Jeonghan, it’s hard to keep up sometimes. That’s why he’s always there to help pick them up, no matter what it is. Besides, if he gets to see Jeonghan flouncing off, familiar smirk firmly in place after he feels better, than Seungcheol doesn’t mind helping him at all.


	2. Joshua

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy late Valentine's day? AND HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY LEE CHAN THE FUTURE OF KPOP YOU BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BOY

He hears the guitar before he sees it, and that alone is somewhat strange. The only people who can play guitar (all of them in the vocal team) are supposed to be out tonight, and unless one of the others has been practicing behind his back somehow without him noticing, then there really shouldn’t be any sound at all. He highly doubts it’s coming from someone’s phone, because he can hear the gaps between notes and the occasional mess-up.

A note goes sour and he hears someone sigh softly. His eyes widen in surprise at the sound, because that’s Joshua’s voice. Why is he still there? Isn’t he supposed to be out with the others? 

The sound of the guitar is nostalgic and that fact is somewhat sad to him. It’s been a pretty long time since Joshua’s played, which is a damn shame really because he’s always played so beautifully. Seungcheol makes a mental note to ask him to play more often. He follows the soft strains of music to Joshua’s room, where the door is slightly ajar.

“Shua?” he calls, knocking on the door. He receives a hum in response and takes that as an invitation. He pushes open the door to see Joshua, cross-legged on his bed, one earbud in and phone out, guitar in his lap. 

“Why’re you up here? Did the vocal team forget you again?” He meant it to be a joke, he really did, but his face falls as Joshua winces at his words. There’s an unreadable expression on his face, tinged with regret. The guitarist’s nimble fingers strum across the strings slowly, as if trying to distract himself.

Seungcheol closes the door fully behind him, wishing he could take back his words. In the first place, he doesn’t understand why Joshua would be forgotten. The first time, the rest of them had apologized and they’d all laughed it off as a joke. The second time, Joshua had been confused, but wasn’t too shaken on account of the fact that he had been somewhat late in getting ready anyway.

This was the third time and Joshua didn’t seem happy about it. Seungcheol was close to Joshua too, almost if not just as close as Jeonghan, and he can tell by now that Joshua is faking calm. He can tell by the way Joshua’s fingers are missing notes and his expression is much, much too blank. His cat-smirk lips are tilted into a frown, probably more at himself than anyone else.

He waits for Joshua to say something, because he knows that Joshua will always end up confessing what’s bothering him if he initiates the conversation himself.

Indeed, after a few minutes of Seungcheol leaning against the door awkwardly and Joshua missing note after note, the younger finally sets his guitar down across his lap and pats the space on the bed next to him, not looking up at the leader. Seungcheol easily complies, wrapping one arm around Joshua’s shoulders. 

Again, there’s silence. Neither of them say anything, but Joshua goes from stiffly sitting up to leaning against Seungcheol, and as he sighs his whole body seems to deflate along with his stony facade, until he’s left staring at the ground, looking torn and unhappy. Seungcheol hates it when any of his friends look like that, but on Joshua’s face the expression seems worse because Joshua is too precious, too pure, too  _ good _ to be tainted by bad feelings. He’s a gentle being, the mediator of their petty arguments, a kind, neutral presence. He doesn’t deserve to suffer, Seungcheol thinks, so he feels his protective instincts flare at Joshua’s hurt look. 

“...Am I really that easy to forget?” Joshua finally whispers, and his voice is disturbingly steady, like he’s already accepted it as a fact. It stuns Seungcheol so much that he momentarily loses his calm, hands flying to hug Joshua close.

“No, no no no no no! You aren’t, Shua, don’t say that,” he says, almost frantically. “You aren’t easy to forget, Shua, you aren’t,” he says, more quietly, more slowly, trying to control himself. He doesn’t let go though, just buries his face in Joshua’s hair. After a heartbeat or two, he feels Joshua’s hands creep up and loop around his chest, hugging him back.

Joshua’s tears are silent unlike Jeonghan’s, but Seungcheol can still feel them dampening the front of his t-shirt, steady and warm and Seungcheol wishes he could take all of the gentle boy’s tears and wipe them away, dry his eyes with tender hands because seeing Joshua cry is like a punch to the gut. And not in a good way, like when they won their first award.

He cards his hands through the guitarist’s hair comfortingly, cradling him close. Joshua soaks up comfort and touch when sad; he loves to be cuddled and physically reassured. Seungcheol is more than willing to give that to him, as long as it makes him stop crying and feel better again.

“Do you want me to talk to them?” he offers, because honestly, it’s the third time, are the other vocal team members purposefully trying to leave Joshua behind? Because that isn’t cool. He’s unsurprised when Joshua shakes his head though, because as timid and laid-back as he looks, he knows the younger is more than capable of standing up for himself. 

“No, it’s ok. Well, it isn’t, but I’ll handle it,” he sighs, smushing his face into Seungcheol’s broad chest. The leader sighs as well, petting Joshua’s fluffy brown hair away from his forehead. 

“If that’s what you want,” he murmurs, setting his chin on top of the younger’s head. Joshua lets out a hum of thanks, not saying anything. They sit there quietly, Seungcheol still holding the faintly-trembling guitarist close. 

“You aren’t forgettable,” he says again, because he has to say something to directly address Joshua’s worry, “the others are just really stupid sometimes and I know for a fact that if they knew how you felt they’d be grovelling at your knees.” He has to be funny, and he’s glad it works when Joshua smiles a little into his shirt. He feels Joshua’s grip tighten on the front of his shirt though, and the guitarist says nothing, so he assumes he has to say something more.

“Seriously, you’re one of the most memorable people I know. For one, you’ve got a super cute face and you’re very adorable-” that elicits another smile out of him- “and for another, you’ve got an amazing, unique voice and if we didn’t have you with us we wouldn’t be the same. You know that. You’re funny and kind and talented and without you around we’d honestly all probably argue a lot more.” He hugs Joshua closer with every word, and by the time he’s done he’s practically got the guitarist in his lap so he decides to just go the extra mile and pull him so that the younger is sitting on his crossed legs, just so he can hug him easier. 

“Yeah, what would you guys do without me,” Joshua sighs, but it sounds far too sad for the affect Seungcheol had intended.

“We’d all lose it at each other and then Jun and Hansol would try to help and probably end up making it worse ‘cause they’re awkward with tension and have no idea how to dissolve an argument.” He smiles as Joshua laughs, just a little, but still. His smile brightens as the younger relaxes into his chest, tightening his hold on Seungcheol’s torso.

“Thanks, Cheol. I needed that,” he mumbles, and it’s Seungcheol’s turn to chuckle.

“I’m always here,” he reminds. Joshua nods a couple times. Seungcheol sighs fondly and gently dabs the remaining wetness on Joshua’s cheeks away, patting his head afterwards. The guitarist smiles faintly at the touches, and relaxes further. It’s a bit heavy and awkward in Seungcheol’s lap but neither of them mind at all.

“You should play guitar more often. It’s been a long time,” Seungcheol remembers to say, shooting a look at Joshua’s acoustic. 

“It has been, hasn’t it?” Joshua hums, following his gaze. “I don’t play it as much as I should; I’m probably getting rusty…”

“Nonsense,” Seungcheol declares loudly, startling the poor boy in his lap. “You play wonderfully. I heard it as I walked over here.”

“What, heard me mess up a whole bunch?” Joshua’s voice is light and teasing again, and Seungcheol smiles awkwardly.

“Well, yeah, I guess, but the other parts were good,” he insists and Joshua laughs, setting his forehead on Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

“I’ll try to play more often,” Joshua promises and Seungcheol nods, petting his hair again. 

“You should teach me. Hannie can play the bass and Woozi can drum but I can’t play an instrument to save my life,” he jokes, just to see the gentle boy smile. It works, to his delight, and Joshua is already stretching out of his lap to grab his beloved guitar. He settles with his back against Seungcheol’s chest, grabbing the leader’s arms and placing his own hands over them. It’s more than a little intimate but Seungcheol enjoys it, especially when he sees the soft, excited smile on Joshua’s face.

“Do you know any chords?” the younger quips, moving Seungcheol’s arms so they lay correctly over the guitar. Putting his chin on Joshua’s shoulder, the leader makes a noise of disagreement, which has the younger chuckling.

“You really can’t play then, can you?”

“I can rap; I’m not completely useless,” Seungcheol argues with a pout on his face. Joshua rolls his eyes.

“I know, I didn’t say that. How ‘bout I show you a few chords?” Seungcheol hums happily and the guitarist sets about teaching him the most basic ways to play. The older simply lets his fingers be moved however Joshua wanted them to move. He has some trouble with the wider chords; his fingers aren’t as dextrous as Jeonghan’s or Joshua’s, and eventually, giggling, Joshua nudges the leader’s hand away.

“Alright, alright, I think that’s enough. Just...you strum and I’ll play. Simple enough. Sound good?” Because his fingers won’t obey him, Seungcheol simply accepts. 

“Mm...what song you want me to play?” Joshua hums, looking thoughtful. 

“Later Later,” Seungcheol says instantly, because the predebut song is so soft and gentle and it fits Joshua very well. It also just sounds super nice. Joshua seems a little surprised by his immediate response, but laughs and smiles anyway.

“I like that one too,” he says lightly. “Here, play like this…” He set a pace for Seungcheol to strum to, and after waiting a couple beats, he lets his fingers press into the frets, free hand tapping the body of the guitar. The familiar, gentle notes make both of them smile, and soon Joshua is singing quietly, looking much happier. Seungcheol joins in, because one, he’s in the song too, and two, he considers himself an ok singer. The younger must think so too because once Seungcheol takes over Soonyoung’s part, he smiles. They divide the parts silently between themselves (Joshua taking Jun’s) without having to speak, and the song actually sounds quite nice.

It comes to a close much too soon for Seungcheol’s liking, and though his back is hunched over slightly uncomfortably he really doesn’t want to get up. Joshua seems to think the same thing because he suggests another song, one in English that Seungcheol doesn’t know, and they both fall into the music again. Seungcheol’s free arm is wrapped around Joshua’s waist, and his chin is still on the younger’s shoulder. In turn, Joshua is leaning back against the older, as relaxed as he can get while sitting on Seungcheol’s ankles with a large wooden instrument in his arms.

Eventually Joshua takes over the strumming too, and Seungcheol is content to listen to him hum the lines of Sunday Morning. Because he’s weak for the intimacy he nuzzles the shiny silver cross in Joshua’s ear gently, hugging him loosely. It makes a small shiver run through the other, but he continues playing after a split-second pause.

“See?” he murmurs once Joshua is done, and the younger shoots him a confused look over his shoulder. “Look at you. Look what you can do and look what you’re good at. None of us would ever be able to forget our favorite American guitarist. And our highly-valued pacifist,” he adds, and Joshua turns away from him, but not before he catches the badly-suppressed smile on the younger’s face. He smiles too, because seeing Joshua smile is one of the finer pleasures in life, one he has no qualms about indulging in.

When the other vocal team members come back, it’s with a flurry of hugs and apologies. Seokmin actually gets to one knee to bow his head. Joshua just laughs it off, but he very quietly asks them to please not leave him behind the next time, and they promise profusely. As he’s walking away, Joshua shoots the leader a small, grateful smile, and Seungcheol grins back, because his job has been accomplished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for the Cheolsooists  
> ALSO GO LISTEN TO LATER LATER AND BECAUSE OF YOU BOTH BY SVT THEY'RE UNDERRATED AND THEY'RE SO FUCKING GOOD I LOVE THEM SM


	3. Junhui

Junhui is, for lack a better word, _confident._ He’s self-assured and knows his worth. He’s charming and clever and can switch from painfully soft to amusingly self-absorbed (in his usual teasing way, of course) in just a split second. Seungcheol often looks up to the younger (not just because he _technically_ has to), simply for how steady and at ease he always is. He’s comfortable where he is (even when they’re smushed together in an airplane), and rarely requires help from other people.

Which is why Seungcheol is surprised to see him hunched over himself on the couch in the living room at 2 in the morning, oversized hoodie making his form into a massive, nearly unidentifiable lump. He himself was only up because apparently his body hated him and made him wake up way too early because he was thirsty.

Seungcheol stops himself from calling out Junhui’s name as he walks into the kitchen, but he does grab an extra glass of water and takes it with him. 

“Hey,” he says softly, offering the glass to the lump that is Junhui. He gets no response and sets the glass down where it won’t get knocked over. His mind cycles through possible reasons as to why the confident Chinese boy would be sitting there alone in the dark, and finally he settles for what seems most reasonable.

“Nightmare?” he asks hesitantly, and even through the dark, he can sense Junhui stiffen. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of; everyone gets nightmares, even me…” Junhui says nothing for another minute or two, before he wilts like a flower and leans against Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Nightmare,” he finally admits, voice oddly hoarse and unsteady. It’s very different from his usual soft but still excited voice, and Seungcheol, instead of pressing, opts for loosely draping an arm around the younger’s shoulders. He knows Junhui is somewhat two-faced (like Joshua and Jeonghan, those sneaky minxes with faces like an angel’s), and can be both quiet and contemplative and confident and loud. Right now, he’s just silent. 

Then he breaks the silence with his own sigh, pressing the sleeves of his too-long sweater to his eyes and apparently holding his breath if the way his body tenses up is any indication.

“What about you?” Junhui eventually asks, sounding small.

“My internal clock decided to be an ass and wake me up for water even though I thought I had reset my sleep cycle last week,” he grumbles. Junhui chuckles weakly and Seungcheol squeezes his shoulders gently in what he hopes is a reassuring way. “Don’t feel bad about keeping me up,” he adds, because he can practically feel the guilt weighing on the Chinese boy’s shoulders.

“Do you want me to stay?” he hums softly, and as he expected, Junhui nods, scooching closer to him. The dancer is taller than him, but with his hunched-over posture and too-big hoodie he seems very small, not to mention the way he seems to be trying to fold in on himself.

“Don’t squish yourself up, you’re gonna cramp something,” he scolds lightly, poking and pushing at Junhui’s legs until he’s sitting more loosely. The younger makes a feeble noise of protest but complies, too worn out to argue much.

“So,” Seungcheol begins. “You wanna talk about it or no?” Junhui shakes his head slowly. He still hasn’t looked at Seungcheol, which concerns the older slightly, but he doesn’t push. Instead he nods, gently pushing Junhui’s head to lie on his shoulder more comfortably.

It isn’t long before he feels one of Junhui’s arms link with his slowly, almost hesitantly, unlike everything else the younger does, which is usually with great conviction, because when Junhui clings he clings _hard_. He moves his arm a little to make it easier, and Junhui once again shuffles close to him, clutching his arm like a child. He sighs deeply again, much too world-weary for Seungcheol’s liking. 

“...What kind of nightmares does someone like you even get?” Junhui finally says, and he sounds a little bitter, like he can’t imagine his leader ever being scared of something and envying that a little. Seungcheol can’t help himself and lets out a bark of laughter, because he’s, in all honesty, a bigger coward than everyone thinks he is.

“All kinds of stuff, if you want the truth. Like, once I had one where Jihoon was chasing me with his guitar, and for some reason that terrified me to the extent of waking myself up,” he snorted, perfectly happy to make fun of himself if it means Junhui will laugh. He’s encouraged by the Chinese boy’s small giggle, and quickly tries to pull up more weird nightmares he’s had.

“Oh, uh...there was one where I was in this weird house, and it looks like your typical haunted house, y’know? So that happens, and I’m locked inside, and then I tell myself that it’s just a dream, and I can do anything I want, but then Soonyoung appeared and told me that my cholesterol was too high and so...yeah?” He’s frowning a little, because honestly that dream was less of a nightmare and honestly just more of one of the weirdest dreams he’s ever had. 

“Why’d you have nightmares about us?” Junhui chuckles weakly. Seungcheol shrugs.

“Because Jihoon is scary and Soonyoung apparently can travel between dream worlds??? I don’t know either. Bottom line is, I get nightmares too.” He pauses, wondering whether he should say what pops up next in his mind, but he decides it will help Junhui relate. “Yeah. Crazy stuff. And I had one that I’ve never really told anyone else, but I suppose it’s fitting,” he sighs, making himself more comfortable. “I think one of the worst ones was when we were still in predebut and you and Hao were still perfecting your Korean and I think I got so stressed that I ended up almost passing out and when I finally _did_ get to sleep, I ended up having a nightmare that...well, honestly, it terrified me and if I’m being perfectly honest it still scares me a little.”

“What was it?” Junhui prompts, looking quite enraptured by Seungcheol’s story. The older sighs again, because when he thinks about it, the nightmare itself is born from his own (in his opinion) selfish worries.

“I had nightmares that each of you would leave,” he confesses softly. “Wonwoo would go off to become an actor, so would Mingyu. Jihoon would become a solo producer, Soonyoung and Chan would become the nation’s top dancers, Kwan would host his own little variety show, Jeonghan and Joshua would tour around doing little shows for people, just for fun, Minghao would become a photographer or a model or something, and you’d go with him, maybe be an actor like Wonwoo, and Hansol would go off...doing whatever Hansol does. It was never really clear with that kid,” he chuckles dryly, then his expression falls again. 

“In a way, it was me seeing all of you achieve your dreams, but leaving me behind in the process. It’s selfish, I know, and honestly I want nothing more than for each of you to do what you love, but I think a big part of me will always want to stay with you guys. I never really told anyone that particular dream because I felt like I was being selfish, so you have the honor of being my first-ever audience.” He tries to shoot the younger a smile, but Junhui still isn’t looking at him.

“The great Choi Seungcheol, afraid of being alone,” the Chinese boy finally mumbles. It wasn’t mocking, more like a simple observation. Seungcheol was still a little stung.

“...Yeah, I guess. If I had to choose one of my top fears, I think being without you guys would be pretty high up there,” he admits. 

“...Me too,” Junhui whispers, and his voice is so, so quiet, almost broken, and Seungcheol realizes that Junhui must have had a similar dream to him. He tightens his hold of the younger’s shoulders, both a physical and mental support.

“Y’know, I had those dreams, but then I’d wake up to find Jihoon poking me, or Jeonghan singing his lungs out to wake me up, and then I’d always feel better because I was still with you guys and you all still held me with you. They were awful dreams, they really were, but they went away. They went away a long time ago, because I know now that what I was afraid of back then isn’t necessarily never going to happen, but if it does, then I know we’ll work it out.”

Junhui finally looks up at him, and his eyes are glassy in the dim light.

“But I’m not going to go away. None of the others are either. Hopefully not for a long, long time. Even after that, I will always, _always_ be there for you and everyone else. You can contact me any time and I will drop everything to make sure you’re safe because I care about you and I know how it feels to be afraid and alone. It sucks, so I don’t want to see any of you go through that. I’m not leaving you alone, and I won’t until I die. You can always find me. I’m not gonna leave you behind, alright?” he murmurs, and he puts as much conviction and comfort into his voice as he possibly can without being loud.

Junhui is shaking his his grasp, sniffling and tearing up, but it's better than holding everything back. It's much, much better.

“Alright?” Seungcheol prompts gently again, and Junhui nods several times before burrowing his face into the older’s neck. More small sniffles escape him, choked hiccups and stifled whimpers, and Seungcheol sits through them all, holding the trembling boy close. A steady presence was what he had always wanted when he had the nightmares, so he was going to be one for Junhui.

“Don’t apologize, Junnie,” he murmurs, because Junhui has taken a shaky breath and Seungcheol knows him too well. “You never have to apologize if you need my help.”

“I- I- I saw you all leaving me, just...standing there with your backs turned and no matter what I tried to say I couldn’t get you to face me, not even Hao; I was so, _so_ scared, Seungcheol, more scared of that than anything else in my life. I don’t want to be alone,” he sobs weakly, clutching onto the leader’s arm. His voice is thick and heavily accented with Mandarin, so much so that it’s almost hard to understand him. His emotions are wreaking havoc on his communication skills and if he breaks any further than he won’t be able to speak at all.

“And you aren’t. I won’t ever let you be alone unless you want to be,” he assures, using his free hand to pat the dancer’s head. Right now, he’s the only one holding Junhui’s breaking pieces together, and it’s with the utmost care and attention that he shoulders that duty. “It’s just a dream. Just a nightmare. It can’t hurt you. It’s not real, Junnie. We’d never leave you,” he soothes gently. “It’s not real,” he says again, because Junhui’s trembling has subsided somewhat to little quivers every now and then. “I’m here.”

Junhui clutches onto his arm, almost painfully, as if to make sure that yes, Seungcheol is indeed there. Almost checking if he’s real or not. Seungcheol’s huff and solid bicep seem to satisfy him, because he takes several deep breaths, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and sniffling once or twice before relaxing against the leader’s side again, the tension draining from his stiff form.

“Feel better?” Seungcheol prompts, reaching down to grab the glass of water and hand it to the younger. Junhui takes it with a nod of thanks, sipping silently. There’s a beat of silence in which they simply sit and don’t look at each other, but Junhui breaks it as he lowers the cup to his lap.

“Thank you, Seungcheol,” he hums, voice low but sounding grateful. “I think I’ll be ok.”

“It’s what I’m here for. And I’m glad, Junnie. You should sleep, we have to get up early tomorrow.”

“We have to get up early every day,” Junhui sighed, a bit of his usual brightness back in his tone and Seungcheol smiles at it.

“Yeah, but still. Go and rest, Junnie. I’ll always be there for you and so will everyone else, ok? None of us are ever going to leave you behind.”

Junhui looks at him through the corner of his eye for a moment, then he’s setting the glass down and carefully twisting to pull the older into a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispers again, and Seungcheol is happy to hug him back. He hums in response, patting the top of Junhui’s head again before letting him go. They go back to their rooms together, hand in hand because Junhui needs the physical reminder, and when they part Junhui gives him another swift hug before slipping into his room, looking almost embarrassed. It makes Seungcheol chuckle quietly into the hallway, shaking his head. As tired as he is, he thinks he would stay up for years if he had to, just to make sure his members were safe and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My soft JunCheol heart ;-;


	4. Soonyoung

Sometimes he gets tired just _looking_ at Soonyoung. Not in a bad way, of course, but how can so much energy and enthusiasm exist in one person? He was always running top-speed, bright and loud and all over the place. It hypes them all up, makes them excited too. Of course, he can be over-the-top and a bit too much sometimes, but it’s all in good fun. They knew that without the dancer around things would be a lot dimmer anyway. 

When he isn’t busy being charismatic and charming (read: loud and attention-grabbing), he’s probably off in the dance studio with Chan (because both of them are absolute practice-bugs), or thinking up a new choreography for their dances. He seems bright, and he is, but he works just as hard, if not harder, than all of them. Seungcheol acknowledges that. The dancer is a pillar of ideals, from workload to attitude.

But Soonyoung gets tired too. It shows in the creases of his face when he’s by himself, or the frustration in his eyes when he can’t quite get his body to move the way he envisions. It shows in his rare, odd quiet stretches, when he says little, always looking lost in thought.

They can see it pretty clearly when Soonyoung is upset, because it’s such a stark change from the bright sunshine they know, so they always make sure to check up on him if he gets flighty. The last thing they want him to do is overwork himself by locking himself in the practice room for too long. They’re at least thankful that it’s pretty obvious when Soonyoung is upset, because none of them can go without his brightness for too long.

But somehow, he’s managed to slip under their radars, spending too much time alone. In front of the others, he’s cheery as usual, but as soon as he turns away he lets himself fall silent, slips back and watches instead of being in the middle of it all. They’re all mostly understanding, because he’s been working hard for them, so they don’t expect him to always be front-and-center, and they leave him alone for the most part.

Well, until Chan hears him sigh, much too weary and much too tired for his normal sighs. It sets the youngest on edge, so he tells Seungcheol about it, and the leader promises to keep an eye on the dancer.

Indeed, Seungcheol begins picking up on subtle signs, ones he’d ignored until Chan pointed them out. The way Soonyoung’s face falls when he isn’t with them, how tired he looks, how he’s said very little in comparison to his normal chatterbox personality.

It’s worrying. Soonyoung is one of their sources of light, a constant gleam in a more eager way than Junhui and more wild than Seokmin. No one likes to see the clouds cover up the sun, so when Soonyoung was visibly upset, all of them were too.

But he’s been hiding it, and Seungcheol has a hard time admitting that he’s been hiding it well, behind those smirky little grins and clever slanted eyes, he’s managed to somehow fool all of them. Seungcheol will never stop beating himself up for that. 

When he does catch on to Soonyoung’s odd behavior, he looks into it, watches how the dancer slumps when he doesn’t need to hold himself so high, and sinks into the nearest chair to put his head in his hands, looking small compared to how he usually fills the room with his presence. That’s when Seungcheol can’t take it anymore and decides to take action.

“Youngie?” he hums, tapping the dancer’s shoulder when they’re mostly alone. Junhui and Chan are in the room, giggling over something on the older’s phone, but Junhui’s eyes narrow in understanding and he pulls Chan up to go bug Minghao with him. Seungcheol is infinitely grateful for the Chinese boy, because he is smarter than he seems.

“Mm?” Soonyoung looks up at him, all eye-smiles and cheerful facade. Out of all of them, Soonyoung needs to be prompted; the words must be coaxed out of him if Seungcheol wants to hear them. He needs a little pushing, because Soonyoung, like Jihoon, is awfully stubborn sometimes.

“Don’t give me that look, I can tell you’re tired,” he says quietly, plopping next to the dancer in a free chair. He knows he’s hit his mark when Soonyoung freezes momentarily.

“...What? What are you talking about?” Soonyoung does his best to make his voice inquisitive and free of accusation, but it ends up weaker than he’d like and he knows Seungcheol doesn’t believe him, as evidenced when the leader sighs.

“C’mon, Hosh, it’s ok. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s eating at ’cha. We’ve been kinda worried for you, and we just wanna find out what’s wrong. I want to help.” Seungcheol can sense he’s hit a sore spot when the dancer winces a little. Soonyoung hates making people sad. 

“I’m fine,” he assures quickly, but the unconvinced look the leader gives him has him balking under the expectant gaze.

“No, you’re not, Youngie,” Seungcheol says softly, putting a hand on the dancer’s knee. “I’m here to listen, Hosh, not make fun of you for being tired. We all get tired. Is there anything you wanna say? I’m all ears.” Soonyoung simply stares down at his hand, looking conflicted. Then he sighs, nudging Seungcheol’s hand off so he can put his elbows on his knees and lean his head on his hands.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been more tired lately. Not like in a lack-of-sleep way but like an I just finished three weeks of testing and finals and I’m ready to disappear-way,” he shrugs, and Seungcheol pats his shoulder encouragingly.

“Working too much?” he hums, and Soonyoung shakes his head. “Not eating enough?” Another head shake. He tries again. What could possibly make Soonyoung upset?

“...Dance?” he finally tries, and Soonyoung hesitates before nodding. Seungcheol winces. Honestly if it’s a dance-related problem even Chan is more suited to help than him. There’s a reason the youngest is in the performance team. But still, he’ll help the best he can. 

“Tell me about it,” he hums, patting the younger’s shoulder. “Let it out.” 

Like a piece of wood cracking under too much pressure, Soonyoung tenses, head still in his hands, and then, voice strained and uneven, starts speaking. For what feels like a whole hour he rambles, on and on about how he can’t quite perfect the move he’d wanted to and how it’s making him so stressed that he can’t focus and ends up making more mistakes. Seungcheol simply nods when he feels it’s appropriate and keeps his mouth shut, because interrupting Soonyoung on a rant is both difficult and unwise. For once though, he doesn’t at all mind listening to his long-winded words, taking them in silently. Despite them sitting in the living room, no one else shows up and he suspects Junhui is shooing everyone away. He’ll have to thank the Chinese boy later.

He turns his attention back to the dancer when he hears his voice crack, which is rare. Soonyoung takes a shuddering breath, having barely moved the whole time. Seungcheol takes this as a sign that the younger has nothing left to say (because Soonyoung will keep talking until he dies normally), and puts a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Soonie,” he hums gently, rubbing circles with his thumb into the younger’s back. Soonyoung latches onto his hand, holding it between his own. He’s clingy at the best of times and Seungcheol is not going to deny him that comfort when he so obviously needs it, so he squeezes the dancer’s hands, receiving a squeeze in response. 

“You’re doing great, Soonie, you’re working hard. I know it must be frustrating to not get a move right but please don’t neglect yourself because of it. You’re trying, and that counts for something. Your work is important but so are you, Soon. And I know you’re gonna nail this dance and you’re gonna freak out and we’re gonna let you squeal as much as you need to when you do.” When, he says, not if. Because if Soonyoung is one thing (besides bright and energetic), he’s determined (read: stubborn), so nothing will stop him until he perfects his moves.

The dancer looks up at him, eyes red and watery. He has enough mirth to chuckle weakly, holding tightly to the leader’s hand. Seungcheol knows that Soonyoung is mature enough to accept help and let it boost him back up. It’s one of the nice things about Soonyoung; he can be super childlike one moment and mature and respectful the next. It’s always a bit of a surprise when he changes personalities, but the others think it’s funny.

It’s not funny now, to see him so worked up, but Seungcheol is grateful at least for the fact that his words seemed to have a positive effect on the dancer.

“You think?” Soonyoung asks, just to make sure. Seungcheol nods several times.

“Mm. You’re the performance team leader for a reason. You make such beautiful dances for us and you work so hard to do it and I’m sure this won’t stop you. If it really doesn’t work, do what you do best and make something new and better. You’ve got a solid head on your shoulders, Soonie, I know you’ll be able to power through this. This isn’t the end. I’d say you have room for...creative process if it doesn’t work.” Soonyoung laughs that time, quietly but it’s there. Seungcheol smiles, because it’s always been easy to make the younger laugh. 

“Come on, smile for me, Hosh,” he grins, poking the dancer in the side where he knows the other is ticklish. Soonyoung giggles and tries to move away but Seungcheol follows, digging his fingertips into the dancer’s ribs and tickling him mercilessly. Soonyoung’s bright laughter, loud and clear, rings out in the room, and as always, it makes Seungcheol happy. He really adores the laughs of all his members (especially Chan’s), and Soonyoung is no exception.

“Ok, ok- can’t breathe, stop it-” Soonyoung finally manages to wheeze, tears in his eyes but not from sadness. Seungcheol relents and moves back, but not before poking the tip of the dancer’s nose with a smirk on his face.

“There’s that smile,” he coos, and Soonyoung grins wider, not at all embarrassed. He even sat up to squeeze the leader in a hug, rubbing his cheek all over Seungcheol’s chest and making overly-dramatic noises of happiness.

“Thanks, Coups, you’re the best.”

“I know I am.”

“...”

“... Anyway, can you uh...let go a little? Now _I_ can’t breathe.” He takes in an exaggerated gasp of air when Soonyoung relinquishes his hold, because it makes both of them laugh. 

Seungcheol pulls his hand from where Soonyoung has squished it against his side and pets the dancer’s fluffy blonde hair for a moment, happy to see him behaving normally.

“You sure you’re good?” he checks, and Soonyoung hesitates for a split second, looking thoughtful as he nods.

“Mhm. I’ll work on it when I’m less stressed. I’m gonna give it a break and if I can’t get it to look right then I’m just gonna try something else.”

“Sounds good, so long as you do what makes you happy,” Seungcheol hums. “But don’t slack off either,” he reminds, and Soonyoung looks playfully offended.

“As if I would ever-!”

“Oh my god, Hosh, I was joking. Calm down. You work like, just as hard as Jihoon no matter what you’re doing and that’s saying something.” There’s a pause, and then-

“You work hard too,” Soonyoung says softly, and the leader smiles, reaching out to ruffle his hair again.

“Well, we all have to work hard, don’t we? I don’t want the others accusing me of not being able to handle my own responsibilities.” Soonyoung snorts and Seungcheol huffs at him defensively, but then they smile at each other again.

They sit there, chatting happily for a while until Junhui delicately shows his face again. The leader gives him a discreet nod and Junhui smiles, bringing Chan back in along with a few others who wanted to hang out. Soonyoung is all scrunchy eye-smiles and bubbly laughter again, which makes all of them relax. Because honestly, when Soonyoung is happy, who isn’t?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok I know I said I might update sooner but  
> I lied  
> GOOD NEWS THO  
> I'M UPLOADING THE HANAHAKI FIC THIS FRIDAY SO LOOK FORWARD TO THAT


	5. Wonwoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mild but not graphic mentions of throwing up; if you have emetophobia maybe don't read this one  
> also idk but I hc that wonwoo has slight emetophobia?? not saying its true ofc just thought it would be an interesting tidbit  
> DISCLAIMER, I WROTE THIS BEFORE THE CORONA THING EVEN HAPPENED SO  
> DON'T @ ME ON THAT

Wonwoo is a rather mild, placid creature, not easily pushed to extreme emotions. He can be playful, of course, like the rest of them, but most of the time, he’s calm and collected, a quiet, observing presence. It’s rare to see him significantly upset (in fact it’s rare to see him upset at all), and in times of crisis he’s a silent pillar of support, expression neutral and non-judgemental. When it comes time to help one of the members, if they’ve gotten themselves into a bad headspace or are just unable to handle things well, then he often steps in with Seungcheol to help, because as much as the internet likes to paint him as cold and aloof, Wonwoo is genuinely one of the most caring, empathetic people Seungcheol knows. It also helps that he knows how to keep his head when others are panicking. The leader will always be grateful for his open arms, ones that help without being prompted.

So when Wonwoo gets sick one day, he’s both surprised and worried. They all do their best to keep as healthy as possible, but a little bug here and there always manages to slip in occasionally, and Wonwoo is the unfortunate host of that sickness for a few days. The others reluctantly give Wonwoo the space he needs, though Soonyoung keeps trying to sneak visits to his best friend even after the others had warned him not to. Seungcheol can’t blame him, none of them really can, but they don’t want anyone else to get sick, so they try to limit their time spent too close to Wonwoo.

Of course, they still need to take care of him, because, bedridden and coughing every time he moves, Wonwoo is certainly not fit to take care of himself alone. 

They take turns heeding to the quiet rapper, who accepts their help without complaint. They do their best to cheer him up, because a sick Wonwoo is a quiet and grumpy one (usually not intentionally). Thankfully, when they’re allowed to see him, he always manages to smile and laugh (albeit hoarsely) at their antics, though he says even less than usual.

It’s kind of strange, to exist without Wonwoo’s lame puns (something none of them thought they would ever miss but strangely do now that they're gone) and calm presence, and though he’s only a stone’s throw away, the fact that he isn’t right there with them is off-putting, as it always is when one of them gets sick and has to stay quarantined. The other hip hop team members (and Soonyoung) are especially sympathetic, because he’s an integral part of their lives. And they just miss him.

Seungcheol can tell that Mingyu and Soonyoung especially are feeling particularly shaken by Wonwoo’s temporary hiatus; they keep looking up to ask the other something, but he isn’t there. Whenever that happens, they fall silent, looking a little confused, and proceed to busy themselves with something else to hide it.

Seungcheol too, feels a little weird without Wonwoo’s constant, quiet presence. But he does his best to keep the younger rapper updated so he doesn’t fall behind.

“I feel kinda bad…” Wonwoo admits when Seungcheol is showing him a video of the choreography Soonyoung planned out for them.

“What? Why?” Seungcheol blinks, a little surprised, and puts his phone down. 

“I mean...I feel like I’m not doing as much as I can. I gotta keep up somehow but I can’t while I’m stuck here.” He glares down at the bedsheets around him. Seungcheol chuckles.

“No, don’t feel bad. You’re sick. You have to get better first. I know you wanna catch up, but if you force yourself to get up and move around it’s gonna end up making it worse. Just rest. You need it.” 

“But I don’t want to _rest_ , I want to get up and walk around. I wanna _do_ something!” Wonwoo huffs in frustration and the leader is honestly rather amused because Wonwoo isn’t really the type to whine or sulk but in this situation he supposes the younger rapper has every right to be annoyed.

“I know, I know,” he smiles, trying not to laugh at Wonwoo’s petulant expression. “But you gotta get better for us. Just imagine having fun with Soonyoung and the others.”

“That makes me less happy and more impatient,” Wonwoo grumbles and Seungcheol can’t help but laugh out loud. Wonwoo turns his childish pout from his bedsheets to Seungcheol’s face, who’s busy trying to calm himself down.

“I’ve never really seen you _pout_ before,” he snickers, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes in a slightly more Wonwoo-esque fashion.

“Cut me some slack, Coups, I’m sick. I _get_ to pout.”

“Sure you do,” the leader chuckles, resisting the urge to pat Wonwoo’s fluffy, permed hair. Wonwoo huffs at him through his nose, looking disgruntled, but it quickly turns into a hacking cough, one that has his eyes watering and body shaking.

Seungcheol immediately gets up out of his seat to fetch him water, and by the time he comes back Wonwoo is wheezing heavily and still coughing weakly now and then but not hacking his lungs up like he was before.

“You ok, Wonu?” he hums delicately, holding out the glass. Wonwoo snags a mask from the dresser beside his bed and tucks it over his ears, nodding. He pulls it down only to gulp down the water, then, clearing his throat aggressively, hands the glass back to the leader.

“Thanks,” he mumbles in a hoarse voice, dabbing at the corners of his eyes where reflex tears welled up. Something unpleasant twists in Seungcheol’s heart at the sight, because even if Wonwoo isn’t explicitly sad or injured, he still doesn’t like seeing the younger cry. He doesn’t like seeing any of his members cry.

“Not a problem,” he nods after a moment, still watching to make sure the other rapper won’t start suffocating again.

“Boy, I do love being sick,” Wonwoo mutters sarcastically, and the leader felt a little relieved to hear his normal dry humor back in place.

“Don’t we all,” he smirks in response. Wonwoo smirks back (he thinks; it’s hard to see with the mask over his face) and Seungcheol’s heart is lifted further. 

“You should probably go, I don’t wanna infect you too,” Wonwoo mumbles after a few minutes of silence. Seungcheol thinks he sounds rather disappointed, but he does have a point. So with a sigh, he stands up.

“Get better soon, alright?” He really can’t help himself, so he pats Wonwoo’s hair before the younger swats him away. He still smiles at the fluffy feeling under his fingers.

“Stop, don’t let me make you sick,” Wonwoo huffs, burrowing under his covers like an animal in the snow. It makes Seungcheol laugh, so he doesn’t feel as bad when he nods and bids the other rapper a farewell.

* * *

Much later that night, because it’s too easy to get swept up into writing lyrics and he forgets to keep an eye on the time, he’s walking back to his room when he hears an awful retching noise from the bathroom, accompanied by little sniffles and coughs.There’s only one person who would possibly be in a bad enough condition to throw up, so he knocks hesitantly, worry making him tense.

“Wonwoo? You ok?” The only response he gets is a rough sort of whine, probably Wonwoo trying to get him to go away, but it only makes him more anxious, so he jiggles the locked doorknob gently. 

“I’m- I’m fine,” he hears Wonwoo say weakly, deep voice shaky. Seungcheol holds himself back from saying “no, you’re not”, instead just taking a deep breath.

“Come on, let me in, Wonu, I just wanna help you,” he tries again, quite desperately hoping that the younger will open the door. There’s another cough, some silence, then he hears the lock click.

Quickly he opens the door to see Wonwoo sitting on the floor, glasses discarded on the counter, looking absolutely awful. His face is pale and his fingers are shaking as he hugs his knees close. There are tears dripping down his cheeks and Seungcheol immediately drops to his knees to wipe them away with the hem of his sleeve. Helpfully, Wonwoo tilts his face in the leader’s direction, but his eyes look anywhere but at his.

When Seungcheol can’t see tears welling up in the younger’s eyes anymore, he sits back, rubbing circles into Wonwoo’s back as he puts his head against his knees.

“...Don’t like being sick. Don’t like throwing up,” Wonwoo whimpers after a while, voice quiet.

“I know it doesn’t feel great, I know,” Seungcheol soothes, concern constricting his lungs slightly. “You’ll be ok. I’m here. Do you want water? Anything?” He can’t help but go into full parent-mode, the slight panic of seeing Wonwoo cry making him protective. He’s almost never seen Wonwoo cry. Like Hansol, Wonwoo is hard to break, but he supposes sickness is a different factor, one that quite literally hurts from the inside out.

Wonwoo shakes his head, so he hums and nods, simply falling silent and continuing to rub his back comfortingly. Wonwoo isn’t the hugest fan of skinship, but at the moment, he silently lets Seungcheol pet his back and rub his shoulder. It seems to help him, because he doesn’t throw up again or start trying to cough up one of his lungs, so the leader is content to sit on the hard, tilted floor as long as he needs to.

“Feel better?” he hums after a while. Wonwoo hesitates, but nods once, still not lifting his head from his knees. At that moment, the universe must not like Wonwoo, because another round of horrible, rattling coughs are torn from Wonwoo’s chest, along with more tears and little whimpers that hurt Seungcheol’s heart. 

When the awful coughing stops and the only sounds are Wonwoo’s wheezing and sniffles, Seungcheol decides to get him a glass of water and cough drops if he can find them. He knows Joshua always has the most convenient things on hand, so he digs around the guitarist’s room until he finds some, next to a strangely large stash of guitar picks and thumbtacks. It makes him laugh so when he goes back he tells the younger. Wonwoo chuckles weakly, accepting the water with a mumbled thanks. A couple of his tears fall into the glass and, huffing protectively, Seungcheol wipes them away again.

When he’s fairly certain Wonwoo won’t start coughing up his esophagus again, he snags the younger’s glasses from the counter and passes them to him, making sure to rub them clean with the hem of his shirt first because he can see filmy, dried-up marks where he assumes tears fell. Wonwoo puts them on with a tiny, grateful smile flashed in the leader’s direction and Seungcheol smiles back, patting the younger’s back again.

“I think I’m ok now,” Wonwoo mumbles after another few minutes. Seungcheol hums, standing up and trying not to show how his knees ache at the motion. He holds out a hand for Wonwoo to take, smiling encouragingly. When the other rapper takes his hand he tugs him up carefully.

“Come on, up you get. Want me to carry you?” he offers, because he can see Wonwoo’s legs shake and he notes how the younger leans on the counter unsteadily. At the moment he doesn’t really care that he could get sick, he just wants to take care of the other rapper because his face pales further when he stands. Wonwoo shakes his head though, so he steps back and lets him walk forward on trembling legs. He keeps a hand on the younger’s shoulder, silently monitoring his expressions to see if he might need to step in.

Thankfully though, Wonwoo makes it back to his room with little more than a determined grimace and some feeble sniffles. Seungcheol hovers around for a while because he’s still concerned, but the younger waves him away with a soft chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seungcheol, really. But thanks,” he mumbles, giving the leader another little smile.

“If you say so,” Seungcheol shrugs warily, making a mental note to check on him in the morning anyway. 

“...You can go now, Coups,” Wonwoo snickers, because Seungcheol still hasn't moved. With a jolt, Seungcheol shakes his head, shooting the younger one last reassuring smile.

“Sleep well and get better, ok Wonu? Or else.” He happens to think laughter is the best medicine and the thought is reinforced when the younger chuckles with a roll of his eyes.

“Sure. Whatever you say,” he snorts, pulling the covers up to his chin. Seungcheol smiles and slips out, waving cheerfully.

* * *

When he goes to check on the younger in the morning, he hears Jihoon and Soonyoung talking happily to him in his room through the door. Wonwoo’s voice is stronger than before, and Seungcheol smiles, deciding he can let the other two keep him company. He’s just glad Wonwoo seems better. 

He doesn’t like it when any of them get sick, but he’s still going to take care of them anyway. He always will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO'S READY FOR HIT THE ROAD CAUSE LEMME TELL YOU I SURE AM NOT  
> I watched the prologue and  
> holy fuck  
> Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Wonwoo's little clips fucking hurt like  
> I'm excited but also scared asf


	6. Jihoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY KWON SOONYOUNG YOU BEAUTIFUL TiGER BOY HORANGHAE
> 
> Also, MyJungKookie was kind enough to do a translation in Spanish of this fic on WattPad! Go check it out with the link below ^-^  
> [here you go!](https://www.wattpad.com/story/225684535-l%C3%ADder-seungcheol-todos)
> 
> also I just found out how to embed a links so that makes me happy, but I still for the life of me can't figure out how to link someone's account name (e.g. making MyJungKookie's name a link back to their dashboard), so if any of you know how to do that, I'd love if you could help!!

Seungcheol doesn’t worry about Jihoon a lot. The younger is smart, with a level head on his shoulders. He knows his own boundaries and is reasonably good at taking care of his own problems, so Seungcheol is usually content to let him deal with things on his own. Plus, Jihoon gets snappy if he tries to pry, preferring to work things out in his own head, so the leader leaves him alone.

Still, he makes sure to force the smaller boy to sleep if he stays up for too long, which is a difficult enough endeavor in and of itself. In fact, just getting Jihoon to let any of them _into_ his studio was a challenge. It was his space, his sanctuary, everyone knew that, so trying to interrupt him was not usually a good or easy idea. Getting Jihoon to open the door usually involved bribing and dramatic pleas from Chan and Seungkwan (two of Jihoon’s only weaknesses), and even then he was reluctant.

They all try to tell him to sleep more, and he says he will, but he can’t help himself and always ends up in front of his computer at 4 in the morning, eyes bloodshot but locked open. It’s worrying and slightly alarming, but he never seems to get the message from the rest of them that, as a human being, his body has basic needs and must rest if he wants to function properly.

It feels like the millionth time when Jeonghan stands from his spot on the couch, stretching and yawning. He and Seokmin had been chatting in the corner, Seungcheol listening to music on his computer while he worked.

“Make sure Jihoon goes to sleep, alright?” Jeonghan hums lazily, tugging Seokmin up with him. Seungcheol, half not paying attention, nods absently, discarding some unnecessary things on his latest music program, one (unsurprisingly) Jihoon had shown him. He smiles though when he feels a long-fingered hand brush through his hair briefly, and he flashes one of his best gummy smiles up at Jeonghan happily, who smiles back softly. The younger two bid him a goodnight and he nods again, going back to saving his work. It _was_ getting pretty late, so he thought he might as well try to wrangle Jihoon into sleeping while he still had the presence of mind to do so.

“Jihoon? You in there?” He knocks softly on the studio door, waiting for an answer. A couple seconds late, someone within hums loudly, signifying their presence. “Can I come in?”

Again, it takes a couple seconds for him to hear anything, but he’s mildly surprised when he hears footsteps and watches the door creak open. But only a little. 

He frowns inwardly when he sees one of Jihoon’s sharp cat eyes peek at him through the gap in the door, bloodshot and drooping. 

“You need something?” he says casually, and Seungcheol blinks before shrugging.

“I was tasked with getting you to sleep. It’s almost midnight.”

“ _Only_ midnight,” Jihoon corrects snarkily, though something in the tone of his voice begs for a respite. “I got things to do, Seungcheol, I’ll sleep soon. Promise.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to keep that promise, but...I don’t trust you to keep that promise,” the leader chuckles. “I’m too tired to argue, so if you’re going to stay up at least let me work with you. I need to work on some things too.” 

Jihoon blinks at him suspiciously before stepping back and opening the door.

“Don’t mess-”

“-Anything up, yeah, I know,” Seungcheol chuckles, walking inside with a shake of his head. “You tell us that all the time.”

“Just making sure,” Jihoon grumbles, though his voice is tired and more mild than Seungcheol expects. His concern only grows when he gets a proper look at the composer’s face. There were dark bags under his eyes, looking almost bruised, his hair was a spiky mess, evidence of his frustration, and he seemed to be having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Seungcheol is a little tempted to simply pick up the younger and carry him to his bed, but he doesn’t want to end up kicked in the abs and with a bruise on his jaw. Jihoon was not a happy cat when picked up unwillingly.

So he simply chooses a free chair in the room and sits, re-opening his laptop as Jihoon gets himself comfortable in his swivel chair and slips his headphones back on.

Silence fell, heavy but not uncomfortable, filled only by the sounds of typing and finger-tapping and the composer’s occasional hum. Seungcheol regularly sends him a glance every now and then, keeping an eye on the way his typing slows and how his back slouches as time goes further.

It’s around three in the morning when Jihoon finally stops moving, fingers still resting on his keyboard and head slumped against his chest. As much as the proud composer would hate to admit it, sleep had won.

Seungcheol has to admit, he’s slightly surprised. He never thought the younger would actually fall asleep in the middle of working. He seemed simply too stubborn to do something like that. But he supposes later that it’s only natural. The days of not sleeping were going to catch up with him some time and it looked like the ball had finally dropped. 

Standing up, he stretched a little, having not moved much for the past three hours, and plods over to Jihoon’s chair, debating on simply carrying him to bed or waking him up. He goes with the safer albeit less satisfying option and puts a hand on the younger’s shoulder, shaking gently.

“Hoonie, wake up,” he hums softly, feeling the composer twitch under his hand for a moment before jerking awake violently, eyes flying open. Trying not to smile, he watches as Jihoon aggressively rubs his eyes, groaning sleepily before slumping back in his hair, head tilted towards the ceiling. He slips his headphones down to rest around his neck and sighs a long sigh. 

“Now will you sleep?” Seungcheol chuckles gently. He himself had long-finished what he’d wanted to do, spending the time watching and listening to Jihoon slowly succumb to his drowsiness and trying not to think of how creepy that sounded in his head. He was the leader, he had a right to make sure his members were ok! It wasn’t creepy, it was protective!

“...I’m so tired, Cheol,” Jihoon breathes after a moment, voice low and rough. He keeps his eyes closed, and he looks so small and exhausted that Seungcheol’s smile quickly falls. He doesn’t think the younger just meant the regular kind of “tired”. But he waits for Jihoon to speak, staying silent, hand still on his shoulder.

“I got a million things to do and no time to do ‘em. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes,” Jihoon continues after a long pause, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I’m working as fast as my fucking fingers can type but they just keep stacking up and I just...wanna pass out for three weeks and not move.” Seungcheol says nothing for a moment, rubbing his shoulder gently.

“Don’t ruin yourself like this,” he says eventually. “You’re not even going to be _able_ to work if you keep it up like this. I don’t think it’s very good for you if you’re falling asleep at your desk. I’m not gonna say we’re all concerned, because I’m sure you know that already, but as your friend and your leader, Jihoon, please, for the love of god, get some sleep. The work will be here when you wake up and you can work on it then.”

“...I don’t know if that’s comforting or anxiety-inducing,” Jihoon chuckles after a moment, tone oh-so dry. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, but his emotions quickly sober.

“Seriously, Hoon, you _need_ to sleep. You’re working yourself way too hard and it’s going to end up hurting you.”

“You sound like a dad,” Jihoon grumbles, sinking lower in his chair. “And I said I still have things to do.”

“Good; I hope I do,” Seungcheol huffs, tightening his hold on the younger’s shoulder. “And I think you getting the rest you need is more important. Not that what you’re doing isn’t, but you gotta take care of yourself. And also if you fall asleep I don’t know how to save your work and so if you fall asleep in here and wake up to everything gone then it isn’t my fault. Just...please, Jihoon, I can tell you’re exhausted.”

“No shit,” the composer snorts, but he sounds so resigned, so fatigued, and just tired in general. His eyes are glassy as he stares at the screens of his computers, and he looks ready to fall asleep again at any moment. “Just… go to sleep, Seungcheol. You’re the leader, you need to rest too.”

“You’re a massive hypocrite,” the older sighs, but an idea is forming in his mind. “But fine. Only after I see you save everything, because I am not getting held responsible if you lose everything.” Jihoon gives him a suspicious look, but rouses himself enough to click a couple buttons.

“There. Happy now? Now shoo.” It’s so typical of the composer’s usual grumpy behavior that Seungcheol snorts.

“Alright, fine, I’m going. But don’t forget to sleep, alright?” Jihoon nods once, probably not even thinking of doing anything close to that. Shaking his head, Seungcheol steps out of the room, laptop under his arm. It’s past three in the morning now and though his eyes are drooping, he wants to see if his plan will work, so he simply sits down at the table and fucks around on his computer for a while, giving himself 15 minutes before he gets up again to find a blanket.

When he finds a suitably soft blanket, he knocks gently on the studio door, smiling when he doesn’t get a response. Opening the door, he pokes his head inside to see Jihoon slumped over his keyboard, head on his arms and breathing deep and slow, telltale signs of sleep.

“Finally,” Seungcheol snorts, crossing the room in short strides and draping the blanket over the younger’s shoulders. Then he sets about saving the (tiny amount of) work the composer had managed to add during his absence, because even if he isn’t completely sure he’s seen Jihoon at work long enough to know the gist of how to do it.

When he’s done with that, he carefully hooks his arms under Jihoon’s back and knees, an awkward affair with how the younger was sitting, but he manages to do it. Keeping the blanket wrapped around the sleeping boy in his arms, he carried him out of the studio, shutting the door with his foot.

He carries Jihoon up the stairs, up to his and Mingyu’s room, where he fumbles with the door handle, cursing quietly under his breath before managing to shove the door open. Mingyu makes a muffled noise in his sleep, but doesn’t wake up, and the leader is quite relieved. 

He sets Jihoon down in his bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around him (because waking up and finding out he’s been trapped in a blanket burrito always puts Jihoon in such a _good_ mood) before pulling up the covers. Briefly, he smiles down at the younger, petting his hair, a sense of slightly exasperated pride rising up in him. The producer always works so hard for them, and he’d run himself down to the bone if the others weren’t there to stop him. It’s both a little worrying and a little endearing. Rolling his eyes fondly, he steps back, ruffling Jihoon’s spiky blonde hair one last time before covering a yawn with one hand. 

“Alright, time for me to sleep,” he mumbles to no one in particular, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sweet dreams, kiddos,” he says off-handedly to both of the youngers, because even if they don’t hear him and won’t respond, it makes him feel better. Yawning again, he walks out of the room and back to his own, flopping down on his bed with a grateful, exhausted groan. The minute he closes his eyes he falls asleep, and has a nice, dreamless sleep for the few hours he actually can.

* * *

When he wakes up, there’s a folded note on his desk, containing only the words “thank you, asshole” on it in neat, familiar handwriting, but he smiles and tucks it into his pocket anyway, and there it stays for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, banging pots and pans while pacing outside the pledis building and chanting: LET👏LEE👏JIHOON👏REST
> 
> ALSO STREAM MYMY


	7. Seokmin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen to Friends by BTS while reading this just do it

Seokmin is another one of his members that he doesn’t worry about that much. He doesn’t have the stress on him quite as much as Soonyoung and Jihoon do, and he always seems so effortlessly happy all the time that it’s a wonder to Seungcheol how he manages to smile so widely at 5 in the morning like when they have their busier schedules. 

He’s honestly both grateful and a little envious. Seokmin always has a smile he can draw joy from, a grin and a laugh he can depend on. But at the same time, he wonders just how exactly the younger manages to keep such a smile on his face all the time. 

But of course, Seokmin can’t smile forever. It’s inevitable that one day he’ll let a frown take over his features, and Seungcheol hates that notion, but he knows it’ll happen. He doesn’t like it when it comes up, so he always tries his hardest to cheer the sunshiney boy back up again before it pushes him too far.

* * *

It’s just a little breaking, a small misstep that throws Seokmin off for entirely different reasons. One foot wrongly placed and suddenly his body wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t move the way he wanted it to. Seungcheol had to watch him struggle until practice ended, and when it did Seokmin disappeared under the shaky pretense of getting more water even though full water bottles littered the room. 

Before he can follow, Jeonghan snags his hand, a worried look on his face. He doesn’t have to say anything, and Seungcheol gives his fingers a quick, reassuring squeeze before letting his hand slip from the other’s. He knows the two singers are close, so it’s not surprising that Jeonghan was more concerned than normal. In his mind he promises to cheer up Seokmin as quick as possible because he doesn’t want either of the younger two to look so sad.

So of course, he follows.The sound of shuffling footsteps guides him until he finds the younger back in his room, wedged into a corner of his bed and looking out the window. His legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around them, expression sullen and unhappy as he sighs.

“Minnie,” he hums gently, knocking on the wall to announce his presence. Seokmin blinks at him through baleful, owlish eyes, a little red-rimmed and glittering wetly. “Now what was that all about?” He keeps his voice free from accusation, not wanting to make the younger think he’s mad. Still Seokmin sighs, putting his head against his knees.

“Whatever you’re gonna say, just say it. I know I messed up.” His defeated tone makes Seungcheol frown in turn, and he moves forward, perching on the bed across from the singer.

“I’m not here to criticize you, Minnie. Tell me what’s wrong; I’ll listen. What’s on your mind?” Despite his soft words, Seokmin says nothing. The leader sighs, reaching out to place a hand on the other’s knee. 

“C’mon, Minnie. Everyone has their bad days. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Seokmin’s expression was almost disbelieving, and with another sigh he scooches over, gently tugging the younger closer. Seokmin stays stiff only for a moment before huddling up to his side, keeping his knees tucked against his chest.

“You can talk to me, Seokmin, it’s ok. I’ll listen. You don’t have to be scared or anything, I’m not mad. I promise.” Seokmin chances a glance at him, eyes glistening wetly and sparking with anxiety. He coos softly, the noise pulled from the parental side of his heart as he gives the younger a brief squeeze hug. Then Seokmin looks away and takes a deep, shuddering breath, as if trying hard not to cry.

The words come surprisingly quickly. It’s all the little things that happened that day- tripping in the morning and nearly falling over, losing one of his favorite pens, not being able to eat a solid breakfast, one little slip while practicing that had led to many more. Small things on their own, but they’d piled up, adding a bit of weight to Seokmin’s shoulders each time until he finally cracked under the pressure.

“See, this is why I should just get back out there, it’s all super dumb and insignificant-” As he speaks his voice cracks roughly, the singer pulling himself into a small ball like he’s trying to hold himself together the only way he knows how.

Seungcheol cuts him off before he can continue, shaking his head a little.

“Seokmin, stop. None of this is stupid or insignificant. I know how you feel. Sometimes little things just pile up and it’s worse than usual, then it all just gets to be too much, right?” Seokmin doesn’t look at him, but nods with a low, hoarse hum. “I’m not trying to be condescending or anything, but we all have days like that. Happens to the best of us. What I want to say is that we understand, we get it. We won’t judge if you need to take some time to yourself for a bit. It’s not a problem. Your well-being comes first above our success. Got that? None of us are mad,” he assures, hand moving to run through the younger’s hair. 

Seokmin is silent for a while, and when a tremor racks his body Seungcheol sighs and moves so he’s facing the singer, hiking his sleeve up to dab at the wetness now falling freely down his face.

“Don’t cry, Minnie, it’s ok,” he soothes in a low voice, pitching his tone deeper than usual to sound more stable and reassuring. He wishes he had Joshua’s honeyed voice, or maybe Jeonghan’s breathy one, but he does his best.“It’s ok. You’re ok. You’re doing just fine. None of us are mad, we’re just concerned for you. We miss our favorite sunshine smiles. You don’t have to apologize, you don’t need to. It’s ok, Min, it really is.” He offers a smile of his own, soft and small, head tilted a little to the side in the way Jeonghan tells him is both very cute and oddly endearing.

“...Stop looking at me like that, then I might actually believe you,” Seokmin muttered after a moment, and to the leader’s delight there was an incredibly reluctant smile on his face. Better than nothing.

“Lee Seokmin? Capable of being sarcastic? Unthinkable! This is completely unprecedented! Someone get me a news channel- ow!” He’s laughing even as the singer whacks him on the arm, but if it makes Seokmin smile again he’s willing to play dumb and make a fool of himself.

“I didn’t know you had the capacity to be violent,” he snickers, grabbing a pillow to defend himself as the younger continues to flick at his nose and ears.

“I didn’t know you had the capacity to be so entertainingly stupid. You should join me ‘n Seungkwan ‘n Soonyoung and become part of the ‘dumb but funny with a trademark symbol’ squad,” Seokmin snips back, starting to grin again, for real this time.

“Nah, you guys have got that down to a science. I think I would make it lean towards more just ‘dumb’,” he jokes, and Seokmin rolls his eyes.

“I think you’re right, actually.” Seungcheol chuckles at his dry response, but calms down when he sees the younger’s expression go somewhat thoughtful. Instead of flicking him, Seokmin cuddles closer to him, leaning heavily against his side. 

“Besides, you’re the leader for a reason. You’re in your own little category of special.” Not what Seungcheol expected him to say, but he just smiles and wraps his arm back around the younger’s shoulders.

“You’re sweet, Min, thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you. How do you always know what to say?” He shot the rapper a slightly sheepish smile. Not quite his normal thousand-watt grin, but getting there.

“It’s a talent,” he chuckles, patting the singer’s shoulder. Seokmin smiles another shy smile before putting his chin on his knees. It’s not a defensive position, just more to get himself comfortable. It’s still not quite his regular, bubbly Seokmin though, so he ruffles the singer’s hair gently.

“Hey, you already know this, but if shit just doesn’t go right for you, come tell me and we can work something out. You can help me ‘n Hoonie write lyrics or you can just sit there and sing whatever you want. Anything that makes you relax.”

Seokmin simply hums, leaning heavily onto the leader’s side. Seungcheol rubs his shoulder soothingly, falling silent and letting the younger think his own thoughts.

“Y’know, Jeonghan told me, about when you helped him. So did Shua. And Junnie.” A little surprised, Seungcheol flicks him a glance to see Seokmin already looking at him.

“...Did they? What’d they say?”

“Lots of good things. Hannie was embarrassingly sappy about it all and Jun and Shua were even softer than usual. They just kinda had this look on their faces, like…” He schools his expression into something fond and warm, loving in its gentleness. “It was cute. They talked about you like you saved their family from the plague or something,” he chuckles, and Seungcheol huffs out a slightly surprised laugh.

“Well I guess that’s...nice to know. I was just doing my duty as your leader and your friend. I like helping you guys. I want to. I don’t want you guys to be sad.”

Again, Seokmin was quiet for a minute or two.

“...You’re good to us, Cheol. I couldn’t have asked for a better leader than you. You balance us all out and it’s perfect. You’re always there.” His voice is serious, almost strangely so for the normally easy-going and light-hearted singer. But Seungcheol doesn’t mind it. He simply leans over to nuzzle the younger’s hair, breathing in the smell of the cheap shampoo they all use.

“My pleasure. You all are the same for me. I wouldn’t want any of you to change. You all are the best family I could ever want to have. I’m here for all of you if you ever, ever need me.”

Seokmin smiles gently, warmth returning to his eyes.

“I know. Thank you, Cheol. You really do have a knack for making people feel better.” He leans more against the leader, closing his eyes. Still there’s a little content, much happier smile on his face. It’s much better than before, when he had been sullen and on the verge of tears, so Seungcheol’s satisfied. He doesn’t say anything else, just hums in response and hugs the singer closer, the hand around his shoulders rising to pet his hair. He lives for the quiet, domestic moments where he can simply sit and comfort his members, his friends, the people he loves. It’s nice.

Then Seokmin sits up suddenly and not-so-elegantly ruins the mood. 

“Ack, I should probably apologize to everyone since I ran off so fast… You think they’ll understand?”

“Of course they will. Wonwoo was pissy last week just because Mingyu accidentally knocked a stack of his books over so if they judge you for something like then then I’m calling them all hypocrites. Seriously, Minnie, it’s ok. They won’t be mad.” Slowly, looking a little better, the younger nods, stretching out his legs from where they had been smushed against his body. Seungcheol smiles proudly, patting his hair.

“Y’know, I bet you Jeonghan will pounce on you the moment you step into the room and mother hen for the rest of the day,” he grins, glad to see Seokmin’s answering smirk.

“Oh that isn’t even worth betting on. It’s a fact; he definitely will. Without a doubt.” They both crack a wide smile, which turns into them giggling quietly at the idea of the oldest singer hovering over the younger for the remainder of the day together.

When they’ve both calmed down a little, Seungcheol leaves one final pat to Seokmin’s hair.

“Hey. Min. Really, it’ll be ok. Everyone has bad days. Things’ll be ok.”

And that time, Seokmin’s smile, brighter than ever, finally came back full force. Seungcheol echos it, feeling warmed by the younger’s happy expression. Their sunshine boy is back, he thinks fondly to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot of little things piling up can be just as bad as one big thing all at once. if someone's having a bad day be nice to them


	8. Mingyu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mingyu thinks he's small ok don't ruin it for him

Despite his tall height, broad shoulders and intimidatingly handsome looks, all of Seventeen knew much better than to think Mingyu was cold and scary. He was the most puppy-like member for a reason, always trailing them around (especially Wonwoo)and somehow managing to get underfoot despite his height, clumsy in the most adorable ways. He doesn’t always look where he’s going, so he’ll bump into things and people, sometimes drop a thing or two, but in the end it doesn’t matter because they all care about him too much to find his clumsiness annoying (and it is pretty darn adorable anyways).

However, there are times when it does make them a little testy. Being so tall, Mingyu occasionally had a hard time controlling his limbs, knocking things over unintentionally and having trouble fitting into small spaces. Sometimes it takes him a second to register his own movement, which, if they’re in a hurry, makes them all slightly anxious.

Some days it’s worse than others. Sometimes Mingyu wakes up grumpy and then he’ll be even more clumsy than usual and then that in turn makes the others unhappy, which sets off a chain reaction of Mingyu closing more into himself until all his responses are short, quiet grunts. He’ll avoid them and try not to get in the way, isolating himself so he doesn’t mess things up more than he already did.

It makes Seungcheol sad. He knows Mingyu’s not trying to be that way, and he knows the others aren’t trying to be mean, but sometimes the stress gets to them and makes them all flighty and anxious. But mostly he gets sad because he can see how hard Mingyu would be trying to contain himself, his puppy-like demeanor deflating.

It’s just their luck that they have a busier schedule than usual, which leads, as it always does, to frantic rushes where all they can do is yell instructions at each other and hope they get the message in time. It isn’t efficient, it never is, but it gets the job done. Usually.

Things just seem to keep going wrong. Jeonghan misplaced his earbuds, Jihoon was grumpier than ever, and poor Hansol barely had any idea of what was going on at all, too caught up in the mess of it all to function well. Even Seungcheol admitted to himself that he was wearing thin.

But he was most worried for Mingyu, who hadn’t said a word almost the entire day, face blank and mouth set in a hard line. He had been busy running back and forth for things, not pausing to breathe, and Seungcheol was worried the tall boy would collapse. 

His lanky limbs and broad shoulders don’t really help him. The establishment they were holding a shoot in was built with shorter, narrower doors and passageways, and boy was it getting to the younger rapper, who had to squish in on himself a little every time he turned around and dashed off. But he didn’t say anything, he just continued ducking his head under too-short door frames and attempting to stay calm. But Seungcheol could see his limits being stretched. He just didn’t know when they would snap.

He knew it was getting dangerously close when he accidentally knocked over a stack of books with a camera on top while turning too quickly, hand outstretched just a little bit too far. With a resounding, cringe-worthy clatter, it all fell to the ground, and all of them winced.

And then Minghao had to speak.

“Come on, Mingyu, try not to be more clumsy today! Can you pay attention just this once? We’re in a hurry!”

“I know that, I just-!” Mingyu cut himself off, voice strained, then he turned back to the books and camera. “Sorry,” he mumbled to the people working, who simply shook their heads a little, awkwardly telling him it was fine. But Mingyu still looked guilty and unhappy as he set the books back and carefully placed the camera on top (it was thankfully unharmed; the lense cover had just bounced off). 

Seungcheol had enough time to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Mingyu shrugged him off, not saying a word. Seungcheol couldn’t think of anything to say at the moment, so he just let Mingyu speed walk off again, a heavy feeling in his heart.

He exchanges a glance with Soonyoung across the room, who was wearing the same half harried, half concerned expression. The younger shrugged and Seungcheol sighs inwardly, waving a hand to dismiss his attention. They had to get through the day. Then he could take Mingyu and treat him to something nice and let him talk if he wanted.

Unfortunately, it seems like Mingyu’s limit is going to be hit before they had the chance to take a break. Stress made them all antsy and jumpy, and so for someone to accidentally bump into someone else wasn’t a big surprise. For Mingyu it was worse because of his inherent need to take up space to move. He had already almost knocked Chan over, and though the younger assured him profusely that he was fine, the rapper still seemed unhappy and tense.

And then there was the structure of the building itself. It was just too _small_ for him. Seungcheol could see him struggling to keep himself in control; being boxed in made him even more stressed and not having space to move made it worse. Add in the dozens of people running around and he was scared Mingyu would suddenly just bolt because of the overwhelming movement.

He knows it’s inevitable that something will happen, even if he doesn’t like it. He just hopes Mingyu can hold on a little bit longer, then they can all relax a little-

A muted grunt of pain and frustration makes him wince, and, worried, he glances over to see Mingyu standing in a door frame, eyes closed and teeth gritted, a hand at his forehead where he must have hit it against the wood. Instead of just brushing it off, he stands there for several seconds, shoulders shaking, and Seungcheol decides the younger rapper has had enough.

So he abandons what he was doing (was it really necessary to have someone up against a wall as he had been posing??) to go over to Mingyu, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. This time, Mingyu doesn’t shrug him off. Seungcheol can feel him trembling slightly, can hear his uneven breathing, so he guides the younger away, into a room with no people in it, and carefully pulls Mingyu’s hand away from his face where it had moved to cover his eyes.

“Hey- hey, it’s ok, Gyu, we’re alone now. No one’s gonna hound after you or tell you to hurry up. You’re fine, everything’s fine.” He hopes his voice is as soothing as he wants it to be, but he can’t help but let a strain of worry slip into his tone as he rubs his thumb over the back of Mingyu’s hand.

Instead of saying anything, Mingyu huddles closer, as if seeking out his warmth. Seungcheol has always run hot, practically throwing the covers off in the summer because it's just too damn stuffy. But now he's ok with the slightly uncomfortable heat, because Mingyu's tan skin is cool in contrast and his tall, broad frame is shaking a little in his arms. Even if it was too hot he wouldn’t care that much; the younger is too important to push away just because he gets hot easily.

Mingyu is silent for a while and Seungcheol just sighs, pulling him into a hug. He’s a few centimeters shorter than the younger, but he doesn’t really care, gently pushing Mingyu’s head to rest against his shoulder and petting his hair back. They stand there quietly for a couple minutes, until Seungcheol hears his breathing even out a little.

“How’s your head? I heard the sound from all the way across the room,” he chuckles, hoping for a little humor to ease the tension in Mingyu’s frame. Thankfully it works a little and Mingyu relaxes just a bit. But a little is enough.

“‘M ok,” he mumbles, not pulling away from the leader. Seungcheol’s fine with that, so he moves his hand from Mingyu’s hair to his back, rubbing calming circles into his spine. “Sorry about-”

“Don’t you dare,” he cuts Mingyu off, giving him a brief squeeze. “I’m not mad. None of us are mad. We’re all just stressed and this place is too cramped. I know Wonwoo almost hit his head earlier too. In fact he turned around too fast and ran into a wall.” That brings a weak snort out of Mingyu, and Seungcheol smiles a little.

“Seriously, it’s like this place is made for short people. Jihoon’s the only one who can get around comfortably and I’m surprised he hasn’t started gloating yet.” Again, Mingyu chuckles feebly, so Seungcheol pets his hair back and hums in the back of his throat.

“‘S ok, Gyu, we’re almost done with all this. Then we can go home and play video games or something. Or I can get you something to eat if you’d like. Shua showed me a really nice little cafe close to the dorm and I think you’d like their coffee,” he suggests lightly, and after a moment he feels Mingyu nod.

After that Mingyu just kind of...deflates, sinking heavily against the older, not moving from where his face is tucked into Seungcheol’s neck. The leader hums softly again, murmuring soothing words. He’s glad no one opens the door to check on them, and guesses that Soonyoung may have told them not to follow. 

It doesn’t take long for the tremble to leave Mingyu’s tall frame, and when it does Seungcheol smiles.

“Better?” he quips quietly, and again, Mingyu nods against his shoulder. The younger hesitantly puts his arms around Seungcheol’s torso, and the leader pushes himself closer, offering his steady presence. Mingyu sighs slowly and moves to put his cheek on Seungcheol’s head, holding him in an almost painfully tight embrace. Seungcheol doesn’t mind. If it makes Mingyu feel better then it’s fine.

“...Thanks, Seungcheol,” the younger rapper mumbles after a moment, and Seungcheol huffs out a gentle laugh.

“Not a problem. I’m always happy to take a break from things if one of you needs to breathe. I don’t want you guys to get overwhelmed.” He pats Mingyu’s head the best he can, his arms being a little squished against the younger’s chest. Mingyu finally lets out a genuine little chuckle and moves away a little, letting Seungcheol stretch out his arms.

“I’ll talk to Minghao. I know we’re all stressed but that’s no excuse to get snappy with you. He’s just worried, I think,” he offers, and Mingyu gives a half-hearted shrug.

“‘S ok. It’s nothing unusual when we have these busier schedules. We’re all ready to just collapse and die,” he snorts dryly, and Seungcheol smirks a little. 

“Please don’t. I like you all a lot more when you’re alive. I’d rather not drag your corpses out of this place no matter how tired we all are.” Again, he pats the top of Mingyu’s head, and like the puppy he is, he dips his head into the touch, smiling a little more than before.

“Better?” he asks again, running his fingers through Mingyu’s soft hair because he can’t help himself. Mingyu nods with a low hum, eyes closed contentedly.

“You really are a puppy,” Seungcheol chuckles, and, a little embarrassed, Mingyu straightens his posture. “It’s cute though,” he coos, and the younger rolls his eyes, though there’s a faint, pleased smile hanging around his lips. Deciding to relent with his teasing, Seungcheol hooks an arm through Mingyu’s, tilting his head a little.

“Think you can go back? If you aren’t ready, we can stay here.” He smiles when Mingyu’s shakes his head, striding purposefully towards the door with the leader in tow.

“I’m ok. We should probably go back anyway.” Before his hand can land on the doorknob though, he pauses. “And uh...thanks, Cheol. I needed a break.” Seungcheol flashes him a bright gummy smile, patting his arm.

“Anytime, Gyu. Try not to hit your head on any more door frames, alright?” He grins wider when Mingyu laughs, and the pair quickly slip back into their respective tasks. No one pushes, and Minghao awkwardly apologizes to Mingyu later, to which the rapper only responds by giving the dancer a quick side-hug and a toothy grin, all sharp teeth and smirky smiles.

* * *

(Seungcheol later takes him to the cafe as promised, and Mingyu does end up liking their coffee very much. The leader, needless to say, feels very satisfied with himself.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry minghao i promise i love you
> 
> yell at me on [twt](https://twitter.com/SandyRoses6)


	9. Minghao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god why is rat gose so intense

To say that Seungcheol admires Minghao would be an understatement. He holds the dancer in high respects, his praises bordering almost on envious. He couldn’t really help himself; he likes to compliment people and there was no shortage of things to compliment Minghao on, from his impeccable sense of style to his god-sent ability to instantly befriend any dog he came across (it made sense why he was such good friends with Mingyu). 

Not to mention his stubborn determination to _learn_. Seungcheol’s always so proud of Minghao (he was always proud of all of his members, honestly), for leaving his home to pursue his dreams, mastering another language, being a darn good dancer, and just in general. 

He might have been proudest of Minghao for just simply adjusting to life in Korea. He knows it must have been stressful for the younger, being unable to communicate his thoughts properly for the first few years, for having to depend on them to help him talk. When Minghao first spoke more than a few words on a show, he looked so proud, and Seungcheol was too. He’s never _not_ proud of Minghao.

But he also knows that sometimes Minghao gets homesick. They all do, really, but he knows it must be worse for the foreign members, who all left their entire lives behind on a gamble to debut. It had all paid off, and for that they were all grateful, but still Seungcheol knows that the separation wears on them occasionally. Not being able to see their families or their hometowns often was a suffering Seungcheol was glad to not have to endure.

So he does his best to be there when things go south, when Minghao gets a far-off look in his eyes, when his voice becomes accented slightly with a Chinese burr he’d long learned to get rid of, when he lets Junhui cling and clings back, probably desperate for comfort and familiarity.

When that happens, usually he’d just take Minghao somewhere quiet, somewhere outside and take pictures together, get comfort food for the younger and then have a little chat before going back to the dorms. It almost always works, and it at least always leaves Minghao smiling a little more than before.

But sometimes they don’t have that freedom. Sometimes they’re confined to tight airplane seats and cramped buses, where Minghao simply sits in silence, playing with his hands and with his camera.

It just so happens to be one of those days, when they’re out doing a show and have to travel between places, when they’re all a little tired but Minghao more so than usual. Seungcheol can sense it, can see out of the corner of his eye the dancer fiddling with his camera as he always does when mildly upset. The others, all a little tuckered out, were either resting or chatting quietly, focused on each other. Even Junhui was napping in the back, head on Seokmin’s shoulder.

He can’t really reach Minghao that well, which he regrets (being squished between Jeonghan and Joshua is always tiring {he blames Soonyoung for the seating}), but he’s still within tossing range. So he snags a well-loved, familiar green plushie from a napping Wonwoo’s slack fingers, and takes a moment to smile at the Kermit’s slightly worn fabric. Hugging it for a moment, he rubs his cheek on the plushie’s head, which draws a half-suspicious, half-fond look from Jeonghan (which he ignores). 

Then he promptly chucks it at Minghao. Well, toss would be a more accurate word; there’s barely any room at all in the cramped bus. He fist-pumps the air inwardly when it bounces lightly off of the back of Minghao’s head, and when the younger looks around indignantly, Seungcheol smiles at him, a little teasing, hopefully a lot more comforting. 

Something in his expression must make Minghao feel better, because the dancer smiles back faintly, grabbing the Kermit plush from the floor and cuddling it close.

“You’re a sap,” Joshua says softly beside him, and Jeonghan hums agreement, but his voice is quietly proud, lovingly sympathetic, and even Jeonghan looks pleased.

“I try,” the leader chuckles gently, and the two singers exchange a smile, each leaning their heads on the older’s shoulders. He lets them.

* * *

By the time they reach their destination, almost everyone par him and Hansol had fallen asleep, and they had spent the past half an hour chatting quietly (or as quietly as possible, considering Hansol was sitting several rows in front of him, unable to move because of Seungkwan clinging to him in his sleep, and he himself couldn’t move either because of two very cuddly, also very asleep singers on either side of him), but Seungcheol was still thinking about Minghao. He looked like he was resting, but he could see the way the dancer’s fingers gripped the plushie tightly, too tightly to be asleep.

He’s half tempted to call Minghao’s name softly, see if he’ll respond, but he also doesn’t want to draw attention to the younger, so he simply continues to talk to Hansol about the show they’d be doing, glancing occasionally at the Chinese boy across the aisle. Hansol seems to notice this, but (bless his odd ability to read situations and body language) he says nothing.

When the bus finally rolls to a stop, he and Hansol set about gently waking everyone up. After jostling the two singers on either side of him awake, he makes his way awkwardly into the aisle over Jeonghan’s legs and goes immediately to Minghao, who was still holding the plushie, eyes trained on the window, Chan asleep on his shoulder.

Gently, carefully, he reaches out to pet the Chinese boy’s black hair, running his fingers through the soft strands. Minghao just sighs quietly, shooting him a small smile before nudging Chan awake. The younger clung stubbornly to his arm for a moment before opening his eyes reluctantly and Minghao and Seungcheol shared another smile.

Once Hansol successfully rouses a very tired Seungkwan (for some reason he’d left the sassy singer for last), they’re all happy to scramble off the crowded bus and breathe in some fresh air. Soonyoung and Seokmin immediately start bouncing around excitedly, taking up all the attention from the cameras. 

When he’s completely sure no one’s filming, Seungcheol takes explicit care to keep an eye on Minghao. Whenever the cameras pan away, he sidles up to the Chinese boy and nudges his shoulder affectionately, giving him a small smile. As one of the cuddlier members, Seungcheol doesn’t really think his skinship would have been strange even if someone was filming them.

Still, Minghao looks grateful. Or as grateful as he can get while he slowly starts to look more and more like he wants to just leave and go home. Seungcheol’s worried he’ll have to bring in Junhui. But seeing the other dancer fooling around with Mingyu and Seungkwan, he huffs quietly and steels himself to cheer Minghao up by himself. 

“Homesick?” he asks, very softly, when they have a small break. Minghao nods easily; they’ve been through the actions so many times that he isn’t embarrassed about admitting it anymore. Seungcheol momentarily preens at being able to get Minghao to be that comfortable around him, then nods. “What’re you missing?” They have a list, and that’s always the first question: find out why Minghao feels homesick.

“Mm...this place kinda looks like my home in China,” Minghao mumbles, looking around slowly. Seungcheol follows his gaze, nodding again. 

“In a good way or a bad way?” Second question: establish whether it’s a good or bad kind of homesick. Sometimes Minghao gets homesick but it’s in a bearable way. Other times, it’s not so pleasant, and that’s when Seungcheol steps in.

“‘S kinda...eh I guess? It’s in the middle. Bittersweet nostalgia,” Minghao murmurs, eyes glazed over.

“Poetic,” Seungcheol chuckles, and Minghao manages to shoot him a small smile. “Doing ok?” Third question: make sure Minghao is ok. Seungcheol tries very hard to never let Minghao close off too much, because if he does it’s hard to get him back out of an unhappy headspace, and the more he pushes to try and get Minghao to feel better, the worse it gets until Minghao cries. And a crying Minghao is something he never wants to see.

But thankfully, Minghao nods and gives a weird half shrug, though his eyes still look a little lost. Seungcheol takes that as a sort of “I’m good enough for now but I might need something later” kind of answer, which is ok. Sometimes Minghao sifts through things on his own before letting Seungcheol help. And Seungcheol respects that.

“I’m here if you want me,” he reminds gently. He always does that: reminding Minghao that he’s there. He does that for all of them. Change was frequent and hard for all of them, so he made himself a constant, something steady for them to cling to. He could be their solid ground, be the hand to pull them out of the overwhelming stress of the raging river called idol life.

“Thanks, Seungcheol,” Minghao mumbles, almost to himself as he continues to stare out at the scenery. Knowing Minghao doesn’t need any more help on his part, he nods and turns to leave, but not before ruffling the dancer’s hair with a gentle hand. Minghao smiles a little.

* * *

“Do you ever get homesick?” The question throws Seungcheol a little, and he blinks dumbly at Minghao for a moment, trying to formulate a proper answer. The two had wandered off after they were done filming, and the leader had simply followed Minghao’s feet, letting the younger go where he wished.

“Uh...I guess I do, sometimes. Of course, I don’t think it’s as bad, since my family isn’t as far away, but yeah, sometimes,” he offers, shrugging a little. Minghao nods, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. Seungcheol sighs softly, nudging Minghao’s arm and holding out his hand. Strictly speaking, Minghao isn’t that touchy. Certainly not as much as Seungkwan or Soonyoung, but Seungcheol knows that occasionally Minghao likes it, especially when he gets homesick. 

Indeed, Minghao quickly laces their fingers together, not looking at him. Seungcheol can see the tips of his ears pink a little (he always gets so fond over the fact that Minghao’s ears were a little pointed - “fairy ears”, Jeonghan called them once), and he gives the dancer’s hand a brief squeeze.

“Let’s go look for something nice to eat. You like those rice noodles, right?” he hums, stepping forward to take the lead. Minghao and Jun had introduced them to all manner of Chinese comfort dishes, and he’d taken a liking to many of them. 

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long to find a tiny Chinese restaurant, and, squished close in the small space, Minghao slowly starts to look like himself again. Surrounded by familiar smells, he digs into his food with odd enthusiasm. It still makes Seungcheol happy as he eats more slowly, more invested in Minghao than his food.

“Better?” he prompts quietly when Minghao puts his chopsticks down. He smiles back at the happy grin and nod the Chinese boy sends him.

“I don’t know why I don’t do this more often. This- this helps a lot. Thanks, Seungcheol.” His voice grows softer as he speaks, eyes traveling to the wood grain of the table. Seungcheol chuckles, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Not a problem. I enjoy this too. Not the homesick part of course, but getting food and talking things out is nice. And I’m always happy to help you feel better. I know sometimes it gets hard to be away from home,” he hums gently, and Minghao smiles at him again, almost sheepish. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles again, and Seungcheol just grins, ruffling his hair a little more aggressively before sitting back. 

“Better?” he prompts again. Sometimes, but not all the time, he asks a second time, just to make sure. 

“Yeah. This town’s nice,” Minghao hums, looking out the window. But his eyes are clear this time, aware and in the moment. Seungcheol nods to himself. When the fog of homesickness clears from Minghao’s eyes, then he knows he’s done his job well. 

Because he really can’t help himself, he leans forward again to give Minghao’s hair one last ruffle. Minghao just laughs and swats him away playfully, but the grin lingering on his lips says enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minghao is my lil frog boy and i love frogs so i love minghao
> 
> also im uploading my new fic on the 18th!!
> 
> yell @ me on [twt](https://twitter.com/SandyRoses6)

**Author's Note:**

> Me @ people who keep calling Jeonghan a girl: fight. me. i WILL liquify your kneecaps


End file.
